After Christmas
Poems and Thoughts from the Anxious Poet
After Christmas
Holiday keeps the world at bay,
cossets, comforts each quiet day.
A safe house, Yule log warming,
the easy Christmas yawning.
Now a new year, waking under dawn,
hearing the dark morning’s scorn.
‘Calling, please, what is my calling
and whose burdens am I hauling?’
Time to look at the faded year
to be candid, direct, and clear.
I have been trading myself,
my precious animating health,
for a work of worthy deeds
in the name of other’s needs.
If I am to serve the tender fire
and rouse my dormant desire,
I need to live from the inside,
to serenely, firmly brush aside
the tyrannical phone’s demand,
to be the work of a gentler hand.
Not swirl the whirl of other’s schemes,
but rather live my given dreams.This was written in 2010, yet it reminds me every year to live from my deepest Self and not to stir the whir of others schemes. Rather to listen to that secret voice in my own soul. I hope that it has the same effect on you.
Happy 2024 from the Anxious Poet.